


Easter 1936: A "Time and Again" story

by Hitch66



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: 1930s, Ballie, F/F, Great Depression, Romance, Virginia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23128879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitch66/pseuds/Hitch66
Summary: Broadlea, Virginia. The rain keeps on coming and Bea is frustrated. It's not a crazy idea to go out, is it? Allie might disagree.
Relationships: Allie Novak/Bea Smith
Comments: 32
Kudos: 28





	Easter 1936: A "Time and Again" story

**Author's Note:**

> I was intending this to be a little Easter gift, but now that the world is going to Hell in a handcart I am posting it early. Chronologically, this occurs after chapter 32 of "Time and Again", although I don't think it matters if you've not read it.

The voices of the congregation rose as one.

_Christ the Lord is ris’n today, Alleluia!_

_Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!_

_Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!_

_Sing, ye heav’ns, and earth, reply, Alleluia!_

Bea felt tears prick her eyes as the hymn and the spring dawn worked the same magic they did every year at this time. Each Easter Sunday of her whole life, she had risen in the dark, along with the rest of the community, to come here to this paddock beside the church and celebrate Easter as the first light seeped into the sky. This year she felt especially emotional, glancing gratefully at the faces of Allie and Debbie beside her, knowing herself lucky to be here.

Tramping back home a little later, Bea gripping Debbie’s hand, Allie swinging the now extinguished storm lantern, she looked about her with relief. Every tree showed buds about to open, and the dark earth was furred with a fuzz of new, bright green shoots. Even the morning air was washed in a greenish watery light, gentle on her eyes and fresh in her throat. Bea’s heart rose, giving thanks for the still beauty of the morning. There had been a time, last month, when it had seemed that spring would never come.

During the early part of March, every day had brought more clouds and more rain, turning the dirt in the yard into a quagmire until Bea had despaired of ever being able to sow any seeds. Constantly wiping up the trail of mud they all brought into the house, day in day out, was making her snappish, and her inability to get out and sketch sucked her into a despondent mood that Allie and Debbie suffered through stoically. Finally she buckled and packed her drawing equipment into the truck and took off one day whilst the others were at school, unable to stand being cooped up for another moment. She figured she could park up someplace sheltered and draw whatever she could see through the windshield. That such a venture might prove hazardous did not occur to her until it was too late.

* * * * * * * *

Allie glared out of the window at the teeming rain, her arms folded tightly under her breasts as though she could crush the apprehension that agitated her by squeezing it in and packing it down tight. _Where was she?_ The truck was gone, but she hadn’t mentioned anything about going out when they said goodbye this morning. So, something unplanned. _An emergency?_ Unlikely.

“Allie …” Debbie appeared at her side. “I just checked in her room and her stuff is gone.” _Gone?_ Allie’s heart gave a painful lurch.

“What do you mean, gone?” Allie asked. “What stuff?” The lurch gave way to a frantic canter.

“Her drawing stuff …” Debbie clarified. Allie scoffed.

“She can’t have …” But her voice was already fading away. No one would be crazy enough to try to go out sketching in this weather. _Except Bea_. Allie recalled her recent mood with a suddenly despairing certainty. She was out there somewhere in this deluge. What if the road got closed? What if the truck got bogged down in the mud? She would swallow her worry, she decided, for half an hour, and if Bea were still not back … that would be the time to panic. “Sandwich Deb?” she asked. A quick snack now would keep them busy and tide them over if necessary. Debbie bobbed her head in agreement and Allie set about finding the ingredients.

* * * * * * * *

The wipers weren’t really up to this quantity of rain. Bea slowed further, leaning forward to peer through the windshield in a vain attempt to locate the boundaries of the road beneath the surging tide of muddy water. She thumped the steering wheel with the heel of her hand. This whole trip had been a waste of time. She hadn’t drawn anything worth a damn, the rain being much heavier than she had realised, and now she had given herself the unenviable task of driving home through this blinding and deafening downpour. Allie and Debbie would be wondering where she was, she realised, crawling along, frustrated by the slow progress the weather was forcing upon her and driven almost crazy by the incessant drumming of the rain on the truck roof. Luckily, the light wasn’t too bad yet. She really needed to make it home before dusk.

* * * * * * * *

“Hold my hand,” Allie yelled above the din of the rain. She felt Debbie’s cold, wet hand questing for hers up the sleeve of her slicker. She grabbed hold, put her head down and forged forward into the oncoming assault. The trail was already three inches deep in running water and all Allie could see as she ploughed forward was the toes of their galoshes appearing and disappearing beneath the red-brown swell. The water wasn’t powerful enough to worry her yet and, if anything, Debbie seemed excited rather than scared by their expedition, but Allie could see that if this rain kept up then they could be in trouble.

Fortunately, the store was not far. As soon as it came into view Allie had hoped she would find their truck parked outside and Bea safely inside with Liz, sheltering whilst she waited for a break in the weather. Disappointed, she glared at the vacant spot as though through force of will she could cause the truck, and Bea, to materialise. Her anxiety inched higher. Thrusting her chin up defiantly, she pushed back any idea of tears and surged forwards.

“What the heck?” Liz asked, bustling forwards as they fell through the door into the blessed calm of the store.

“Sorry Liz,” Allie replied, looking at the puddle they were creating on the floor.

“Anything you’ve run out of could surely have waited until tomorrow,” Liz remarked. Allie pushed her hood back, flinging water droplets across the room.

“Have you seen Bea?” she demanded.

“No … She’s not out in this ...?” Liz asked, her eyes widening.

“Truck’s gone. She’s not at home. Can I use the telephone?” Allie asked, all in a rush. Liz nodded dumbly.

“Charles, maybe?” she suggested. Allie nodded, already across the room.

“If not, I’ll try Bridget.” Allie cranked the handle.

“C’mon Deb. Let’s get you out of those wet things. _Soph! Debbie’s here_. A cup of cocoa might be in order, hmm?”

* * * * * * * *

Bea swiped at the condensation on the inside of the windshield with the cuff of her jacket. _Nearly home and now this_ . Water swirled across the platform of the bridge, eddying around the wooden uprights, licking against the struts with deliberation. Every moment threatened the bridge’s structure. It came down to a bleak choice: turn around and take a chance back the way she had come, or drive across and pray the bridge would hold. Whichever it was, she had to decide now because soon the narrow bridge would be gone and she would have no choice at all. _Forward or reverse?_ She imagined spending the night in town, away from Allie and Debbie. Clenching her jaw in frustration, she depressed the clutch and put the truck into gear. 

* * * * * * * *

Allie hung up the earpiece and leaned her forehead against the wall, closing her eyes against the threat of tears. Neither Charles nor Bridget had seen or heard anything from Bea, though both confirmed that conditions were as bad in town as in Broadlea. In desperation, Allie had called the sheriff's office next. Shorty and all his deputies were out, assisting relief efforts, so Allie left a message asking them to look out for Bea, giving a description of the truck. But she held out little hope of any help from that quarter. Pressing the back of her hand against her mouth to stifle a frustrated sob, she struggled to compose herself before returning to Liz and the girls.

"Any luck?" Liz asked quietly. Allie shook her head and gripped the back of the chair Debbie was sitting in, dropping a kiss onto the crown of her curly head. 

"I'm going to go look for your mama, Deb. You stay here with Liz," Allie told her. "Do you mind?" she asked Liz.

"Of course not," Liz told her, her face betraying her own worry. "Take the delivery truck. You'll be able to cover more ground."

"Are you sure? I can't guarantee that I won't get it stuck somewhere."

"Take it. It'll give you some protection. And for God's sake Allie … be careful." Liz passed her the keys. Allie nodded, embracing the smaller woman gratefully. 

"I'll be back before you know it."

* * * * * * * *

Bea edged forward slowly. Feeling the water tugging her to the right, she compensated by steering a little to the left, hoping she wouldn't hit the rail. Eyes forced wide, forehead almost touching the glass, she could hardly see a thing. She edged onto the bridge and cursed as she felt the wooden boards juddering beneath her wheels. Stepping on the gas the truck jumped forward, the front tyres biting into the road just as the back tyres lost contact with the bridge as it fell away behind her.

For a moment, she thought she had made it. Then, with a slowly dawning sense of dread, the truck began to slip backwards, downwards. The water hit the side of the truck and she and the ruined bridge were spun into the flow of the flood. Bea just had time to wonder what she had done when water began to rush into the truck through every crack and gap. Her heart picked up to a gallop as she registered the possibility of sinking and being trapped underwater. The water swirled frigidly around her ankles, taking her breath away: much of this was snowmelt. The truck was filling up and she knew that even if she managed not to drown, there was a good chance she would freeze.

She grabbed the door handle and yanked but it wouldn’t open. A small, logical part of her mind knew that the water pressure was holding it closed, whilst the rest of her brain fought against an illogical panic that told her that the door was somehow jammed. She forced herself to wait, filling her lungs with precious air, gripping the steering wheel tightly as the truck pirouetted in the cascade of water. Her senses screamed at her to act before it was too late but she knew she had to wait for the truck to fill up some more, for the water pressure to equalise. She closed her eyes and thought of Debbie and Allie. To get back to them she had to be calm. She had to do the right thing. She rolled down the window, allowing the sound of the rushing water to buffet her. She slipped her arms out of her jacket sleeves. Then she put Allie’s blue gaze before her mind’s eye and focussed on that, ignoring the freezing water that was now edging up her thighs.

* * * * * * * *

Allie dragged the brake on. _Where was the bridge?_ After scanning what she could see of the road ahead though the sheet of water sluicing over the windshield, she opened the door and stepped out into shin-deep water. The rain pounded on her head and face, running down her neck and seeping coldly into her clothes. She urged her legs forward against the sideways drag of the floodwater. A moment of shocked disbelief was followed by the realisation that the bridge was gone. Washed away. Allie blinked at the absence for a few moments, her mind tracing other possible routes that Bea might use on finding this way closed to her. She would have to go miles to find another crossing, and who could say if the next bridge might also be gone. Liz might have a map, she supposed, that showed the bridges. If she could see a map, she might be able to predict Bea’s route. She looked at the sky. Heavy cloud cover suggested that the rain would not stop today. And the light. Soon they would lose the light. Allie ruthlessly squashed the impulse to despair. Might Bea have been sensible enough to head to Charlottesville and safety? Probably not, she thought, her desperation tinged with admiration.

She began to turn back to the truck. Pushing wet strands of hair out of her face, a flash of white caught her eye. She turned back. _What was that?_ She stepped forward a few paces, shielding her eyes from the rain. Then her feet were gone from under her. Her whole body jolted with the impact as she found herself sliding through the mud and water down towards the torrent that had surely removed the bridge. A pain in her shoulder. She jerked to a stop. Struggling to hold her head above the flow, she noted dispassionately that her self-preserving hand had caught hold of an exposed tree root. She looked again for that flash of white. Nothing. She hauled herself to her knees. And then she saw it, tangled in some branches only two dozen yards away. She squinted and it resolved itself from a meaningless patch of incongruous paleness into a white shirt over a human torso. And now that she knew what she was looking at she could identify sprawled legs and an outstretched arm.

Panting with fear, she staggered to her feet. What had Bea been wearing this morning, she asked herself frantically. _Think, damn it._ Her white shirt? Allie didn’t know with any certainty. How could she not have noticed? Her brain wouldn’t cooperate, showing her images of Bea wearing her overalls, her robe, her green dress, with no indication if that particular memory had been made today or any other day. She wiped her face. Bea or not, she couldn’t leave that person just lying there, dead or alive. She slid one leg forward experimentally, testing to see if she could keep her footing. Finding that she was still upright, she moved the other leg and after a tortuous couple of minutes was able to grab hold of a partially submerged tree. She caught her breath and reluctantly turned her eyes back to the immobile figure. She couldn’t see her head or face but she was suddenly certain it was Bea. 

“ _Bea!_ ” she shouted, as loudly as she could, her throat scorching with the strain. She could hardly even hear herself over the sound of the rain and rushing water. She choked out an agonised sob. “ _Bea!_ ” The figure didn’t move. Cursing and weeping, Allie set about twisting a narrow branch off the tree she was holding onto. Savagely, she ripped through the tenacious fibres and tested its strength. It would have to do. Using the stick as an extra point of contact with the treacherous ground and probing ahead to check the water’s depth she waded forward as quickly as she could. Though she longed to throw herself into the torrent and swim to Bea’s side, she didn’t dare. The water could sweep her past her target. Allie suspected herself to be not such a strong swimmer as Bea and now was not the time to test that suspicion.

Finally within a few feet of the prone figure, Allie tested with her branch and found that the ground dropped away. The only way now was to launch herself at Bea through the water and hope that she could grab hold. She watched Bea’s legs sway in the current for a moment before propelling herself forward with as much strength as she could muster. She had thought she could not get any wetter, and yet the sensation of her whole body entering the water was still a profound shock. Worse, her drenched clothing was heavy, and she could already feel it dragging at her, depleting her strength. The water closed over her head and she swirled with the current, searching with her hands for something to grab hold of, ignoring a sharp pain as something jabbed her in the face near her eye. Blinded, deafened, breathless, she was being pulled away, into the flow. She reached desperately, flailing her arms in every direction. She closed her hand over something and held fast.

* * * * * * * *

“You gotta help me here Bea!” Allie pleaded. She tugged at Bea’s shoulders. She was heavy and snagged on the branches. Allie had no idea how she would move her. But she was alive. Freezing cold, unconscious, and with God only knew what injuries, but alive. She had fetched up against this flotsam, draped in such a way that she was supported by a branch across the chest and under one arm. Her head had been hanging down this whole time, but mercifully short of the water. Her eyes were still, her lips as pale as her face, but Allie didn’t think that she had imagined the twitch they gave when she had spoken her name. Allie edged herself along the branch a little towards what might be called the riverbank. At some point the ground would rise. If she could only move them both in that direction, maybe she could get her feet under her again.

“Okay sweetheart. I’m going to try to move you a little. You’re all caught up on these branches. But let’s try something …” Allie carried on talking, not knowing if Bea could hear her, but finding comfort in imagining that this was an ordinary conversation. She manoeuvred herself so that her front was against Bea’s back. Holding on to the entangling branch with her left hand, she looped her right arm as far around Bea’s middle as she could. Then she began trying to turn over onto her back, thinking that if she could bring Bea with her she could eventually drag them both out of the water. She began to rock from side to side. “I’m going to build up some momentum … and then …” Allie panted. She could not seem to get Bea to move at all. “C’mon Allie,” she told herself. “Put some effort in …” She wrenched at Bea, desperation lending her a strength she didn’t know she had, until something abruptly gave way with a ripping sound and she found herself holding Bea against her chest, water lapping at her face. “Ha! There we go! Okay. We gotta scooch back along this branch …” Allie pulled them back along the limb, grateful that the water was taking much of Bea’s weight.

Allie scrambled backwards up the bank, hauling Bea with her hands gripped under her arms, praying she wasn’t making her injuries worse with this rough treatment. All the while, she spoke to her, trying not to be scared by the utter blankness of her features and the way Bea clearly didn’t feel the rain running over her face. “Nearly there … Not much further now … Almost back to the truck …” She glanced over her shoulder. The truck seemed miles away. “Soon get you home and out of these wet things. A hot drink and a blanket will sort you out. Your shirt … ruined … ” Exhaustion was getting to her now. She was starting to shiver and her muscles felt rubbery and weak. But she couldn’t afford to fade now. Doggedly she dug her feet into the mud and concentrated on completing one step at a time, refusing to think about the next, and the next.

It was in this mindless state that she finally bumped up against the truck and allowed herself to sag back against it for a moment, catching her breath. How was she going to get Bea inside? It was quite a step up. “Stay here,” she told Bea firmly, propping her against the rear wheel, hating having to let go of her even for a moment. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m just gonna open the door.” Door opened, she dragged Bea over. Now she had to somehow get inside and pull Bea in without letting go. Because letting go would mean Bea going under. Keeping hold of Bea’s collar, she managed to get inside the truck and kneel up on the seat, leaning over her. Would she be strong enough to pull her up and in? She would just have to be. Leaning further, she grabbed Bea under the arms again and tried to straighten up. Her back screamed in protest. Still holding on to Bea she squirmed her legs out from under her so that she was sitting sideways on the seat. She would just try to pull Bea onto her lap. Bracing her feet on the doorsill, she heaved. “Christ Bea … you gotta cut down ... on the potatoes.” She tried again, this time linking her hands across Bea’s chest for a better grip. A little movement this time. Allie kept her arms tight and leaned back. “Atta girl … nearly there …” And then abruptly she found herself lying flat on her back across both seats with Bea a dead weight on top of her. “Whoo! Okay sweetheart … we don’t have time for that kind of thing. Gotta get you home.”

* * * * * * * *

Liz had been peering out of the store window on and off for the last hour when she finally saw her truck returning. Straight away, she opened the door and, never mind the rain, ran out to meet Allie.

“Any luck?” she called anxiously, as Allie jumped out, soaked to the skin. Liz frowned at a raw looking wound on the side of her face. “What happened to you?” she queried, taking in Allie’s torn slicker, the mud, the blood, the tangled hair that encased her skull.

“I found her,” Allie replied, wasting no time in moving around the front of the truck to the passenger door. “Help me get her inside Liz,” she shouted over the sound of the rain. Liz jerked into action. When Allie opened the door and she saw Bea, her hand went to her chest in an automatic gesture of shock. Was she dead? Was Allie just bringing her body back?

“Grab her feet Liz,” Allie ordered, already inside the truck and lifting the upper part of Bea’s body. But Liz was frozen in horror. Allie made an impatient sound. “She’s alive. Out cold, half drowned and freezing, but alive! We’ve gotta get her inside …” Liz nodded and grasped Bea’s ankles, backing away as Allie climbed out, somehow taking the majority of Bea’s weight.

Once inside the store the girls ran over. Debbie’s hand flew to her mouth.

“She’s going to be okay, Deb,” Allie was quick to reassure. “She took a dunk in the water and … I think she must have hit her head.” Allie kept moving towards Liz and Sophie’s living quarters. “Where’s best Liz?”

“Um. My room I guess, love …” Allie backed them into Liz’s room and laid Bea gently on the rug in front of the fire, stroking the wet hair away from her face. “Start getting her out of those wet things. I’ll build up the fire …”

“Debbie can do that,” Allie interjected. “Call for the doctor will you Liz? And we’ll need towels and blankets …” Liz just nodded, astonished at Allie’s apparent calmness. She left Allie to undress Bea and called the girls over, giving them a list of instructions. Then she headed for the telephone.

* * * * * * * *

Allie rubbed Bea’s skin vigorously with a towel, hoping to warm her. When she had first stripped off her clothes, she had been dismayed by how she looked. Usually so strong and … solid, somehow, Bea’s body seemed so slight and pale, covered with welts and angry looking red marks. For Debbie’s sake, she choked back the sob that rose in her throat.

“Tuck those blankets around her Deb, while I take a look at her head.” Debbie’s face was anxious, her lips compressed to keep back her tears, but she did as Allie suggested. Allie kept her voice and movements calm and unhurried, hoping to soothe her. “Look at this!” she exclaimed with a reassuring smile. “How will we ever get all the mud and twigs out of her hair?” Debbie gave a wan smile and Allie continued to probe Bea’s scalp, searching for the reason for her continued unconsciousness. Her fingers butted up against a spongy ridge of flesh. Stomach curdling with dread she bent her head right to the rug, separating the strands of hair until she could see the wound. There was a large lump crowned by a jagged edged laceration that was still seeping stickily. Allie drew away her fingers, suddenly nauseous. This was what was causing the problem. The rest of her was battered but unbroken. This head wound needed to be seen at the hospital, but Allie knew there was no way to get her there for now.

“Debbie, could you ask Sophie if they have any iodine? Your mama has a cut on her head.” Debbie nodded and got to her feet. She tiptoed to the door and closed it quietly behind her. Allie appreciated the thoughtfulness of the girl: she was usually a noisy force of nature as she entered and exited rooms. Allie lay herself down next to Bea and draped an arm gently over her middle. The heat from the fire almost scorched her arm but Bea was still pale and cold to the touch. “It’s just us now, sweetheart,” she whispered against her ear. “Come back to me. Bea, honey … can you hear me?” The fatigue of the last few hours was catching up with her. She shivered violently and the tears she had managed to deny since she had first discovered Bea gone, spilled over abruptly. She pressed her hand over her mouth but her sobs would not be silenced. “Don’t leave us. Please don’t leave us …”

* * * * * * * *

When Liz came back into the room, she found Allie lying on the rug next to Bea, wiping her eyes. Liz’s heart clenched in sympathy. Allie was shaking, but not with her tears. She was still wearing the same wet and filthy clothes as before and was trembling with cold and exhaustion. Now here was something that Liz could help with.

“Come on love,” she said in a soft voice, pulling gently at Allie’s arm to get her to come to her feet. “You need to get out of these wet things.” Allie opened her mouth to protest. “It’s okay,” Liz insisted. “I’ll stay with her. Let me find you something …” Liz rummaged in her wardrobe. Nothing she had would fit Allie but it would just have to do. She found a warm nightgown that had always been too long, and passed her her robe. “Get dried and changed …”

“What did the doctor say?” Allie interrupted, gripping her elbows to her sides to try to stop the shivering.

“Get dry first,” Liz told her with uncharacteristic firmness. “Wash the blood off your face and then we’ll discuss it.” Once she had ushered Allie out of the room she found some warm things for Bea to wear: the wool bed socks that Bea herself had knitted, a brushed cotton nightshirt that was exceptionally soft from wear, and a bed jacket. She managed to get the socks on her. The other things would have to wait until Allie came back to help.

“So, the doctor can’t get here because of the weather,” Liz told Allie when she re-entered the room looking a little less bedraggled. “But,” she began, as Allie looked wildly around the room, her eyes settling on Bea, “he told me what to do and asked that we telephone him with a description of her head wound once we’ve had a chance to look at it.” She took Allie’s forearms in her hands and shook them gently, meeting her teary eyes. “Don’t fall apart on me now. I need you to help me dress her and get her onto the bed. The doctor said we shouldn’t move her any more than necessary, but … she can’t stay there.”

Between them, they eased the nightshirt over Bea’s head and arms and Allie tugged it down her body. Allie chatted way to Bea, all the time her face showing how she fought against her fear and Liz was impressed, not for the first time, by the courage that dwelt in Allie’s big heart. They carried her to the bed, Allie being oh-so-careful of her head, and laid her down.

“We should raise her head up, the doctor said, and ice it …,” Liz murmured. Allie nodded, her lips compressed, and arranged the pillows to support her. “Here’s the iodine. You should use some yourself,” she commented, indicating the side of her face. “I’ll get some ice …” Liz slid quietly out of the door, leaving Allie to dab the liquid on.

Out in the store Debbie and Sophie were sitting mournfully, having been banished from the sickroom.

“Can I see Mama?” Debbie asked at once, jumping to her feet. Liz shook her head.

“Not just yet,” she said, giving her a hug. “We just need to fix her up …”

“She’ll wake up soon, won’t she?” Debbie asked, a small line appearing between her brows.

“Sure …” Liz replied, uncertainly. Debbie’s bottom lip gave a tremble and tears blossomed against her lower lids.

“I want Allie …” she choked out as the tears began. Liz stroked her narrow shoulders.

“Okay, love. I’ll just get some ice for your mama. Soph,” Liz beckoned her daughter over with a twitch of her head. “Look after Debbie for a minute.” Sophie scooted her chair over and pulled Debbie down into her lap, although she was not much bigger than her weeping friend was, and wrapped her arms around her.

* * * * * * * *

Allie was desperate to speak to the doctor, to tell him about Bea’s state and get the right advice. But first of all, there was Debbie. As soon as Debbie saw her, she jumped out of Sophie’s lap and into Allie’s arms, her sobs intensifying.

“Shh, shh …” she soothed, squeezing her small body tightly as Debbie gripped her around the waist with her legs. “Your mama’s going to be alright, isn’t she? Who’s stronger than she is?” she asked, drawing back so that she could meet her eyes. Debbie gave an enormous sniff and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“No one,” she replied stoutly, against the tremble of her voice. Allie nodded.

“No one,” she confirmed. “Now, I have to telephone the doctor …” Debbie squeezed tighter to let Allie know she wasn’t ready to be put down. “But you can come with me. I’m going to need paper and pencil so that I can write down what the doctor says.” Debbie allowed herself to slip to the floor and ran behind the counter to retrieve the pad of paper and pencil that Liz used for calculations.

“Ready,” Debbie announced, arriving at Allie’s side. And although she was clearly still worried, she was able to give Allie a tiny smile.

Ten minutes later, Allie re-read what she had written:

> _take pulse every 15 min_
> 
> _elevate head_
> 
> _ice wound_
> 
> _no drink_
> 
> _look for headache, flushed face, vomiting, restlessness_
> 
> _pulse shd start low but grad improve_

Allie looked at her watch. The inside of the case was all fogged up with moisture droplets. She held her wrist to her ear.

“Liz? Do you have a watch with a second hand?”

* * * * * * * *

“Her pulse is a little better,” Allie commented, “but she still feels chilly.”

“Why don’t you get in there with her? You'll warm her better than anything.” Liz had managed to get a hot drink inside Allie and a few crackers. In the last twenty minutes, she had observed her yawn a dozen times, most recently with jaw-cracking intensity, but Allie refused to take a break. The girls were tucked up top-to-toe in Sophie’s bed, and now the night had made a mirror of the window. Allie had unemotionally related to her how she'd pulled Bea out of the water, never taking her eyes from Bea’s face. She had to be exhausted, Liz thought.

"I need to take her pulse again soon. If I get into bed I might fall asleep," Allie explained, still not looking at her. 

"If you do, I'll wake you up. Next one's a quarter past, hm?" Allie looked doubtful. "Maybe she'll sense you're there. It could help her recover …" Liz could see she was wavering. "Give me the watch." She made a gimme gesture with her hand. Allie reluctantly handed it over, tucked her legs under the covers and cuddled into Bea's side. Liz thought she'd never heard a sound more eloquent of fulfilment than Allie's sigh as she laid her cheek against Bea's arm.

* * * * * * * *

Allie suddenly became aware of Bea trembling violently against her. She sat up, instantly alert.

"Bea! What's wrong?" she asked in alarm. She scrutinised her face, gripping her arms to hold her steady. "Liz … what's wrong with her? Do you think she's having a fit?" Liz bustled over and looked at Bea's face, stroking her cheek. 

"I don't think so. I think she's shivering." Allie put her arms around Bea tightly. 

"How can she still be cold?" she asked, unable to suppress a sense of panic. 

"I think it might be a good sign," Liz said, calmly. "Her body is starting to react like it should. And look. She's not as pale as she was."

"Do you think that's a flushed face? Because the doctor said we should watch out for that …"

"Not flushed, no, just a little colour in her cheeks." She smiled at Allie and patted her arm. "This is good, love. I've been taking her pulse whilst you were asleep …"

" _Asleep_?" Allie's voice climbed an octave in horror. "But …"

"Shh. Only an hour. You were so tired I decided an hour wouldn't hurt …," Liz explained. A wash of anger rushed over Allie.

"That wasn't your decision to make …"

"I would have woken you in a heartbeat if it had been necessary. But look …" She poked at a scrap of paper with her finger. "I wrote it down every fifteen minutes, and you can see … it's almost back to normal." Allie grabbed the piece of paper out of her hand. Reading Liz's tidy digits she felt her anger melt away. 

"You really think she's getting better?" she asked timidly. 

"I'm no doctor, but it looks like it to me."

Allie looked at Bea. Her shivering had lessened and she did look more like she was sleeping now, rather than unconscious. Impulsively she pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

"I'm right here sweetheart," she told her. Bea's lips parted for a breath and she made a faint humming sound in her throat. Allie gasped. She looked at Liz, smiling through her tears, and held her even tighter, determined to chase away the last of the chill.

* * * * * * * *

_The water closed over her head. Sunlight filtered through the orange-brown murk onto her face. She wasn’t worried. She could swim to the surface whenever she wanted, but it was kind of peaceful to drift here. Dispassionately, she watched twigs and leaves come into view and then sail away again. She sank a little deeper. Making a sweeping gesture with her arms and legs, she was surprised not to return to the surface. She tried again. If anything, she sank a little deeper and the water became a little darker. A shoe drifted in front of her face and then a hunk of twisted metal. Her heart accelerated. She thrashed at the water with her arms and legs, but nothing happened. Instead, it was as if she had a heavy weight tied to her legs and it was pulling her rapidly towards the bottom._

_She was aware of the ache in her chest. She needed to breathe. She clamped her jaw closed against the temptation. The faint sound of a voice echoed in her ear, distorted by the water. Allie? She looked around wildly, but the water was almost opaque now. So dark. She could see nothing. Where was Allie? And where was Debbie? The sudden panic of that thought forced her mouth open and the freezing filthy water rushed in._

_“Debbie!”_

“She’s safe. Debbie’s safe. You’re safe.”

Allie.

Heart pounding, unable to force her eyes open, Bea was nonetheless aware of Allie’s familiar voice and the comforting feeling of her arms around her. Soft lips on her face. Fingers wiping her cheeks. Why was she crying? She couldn’t remember.

“Just a dream. It was just a dream,” Allie crooned. Bea turned towards her. Or at least tried to. Why was moving so damned difficult?

“Allie …” she managed to croak out. That pathetic sound was met with a delighted laugh.

“Yes. I’m here. Oh, thank God …”

Bea put some effort in and managed to lift her lids, only for them to sink closed again. When she finally got them to stay open for a second or two, she was rewarded with the sight of Allie’s face, faintly lit by firelight, which reflected in her eyes and from her hair. It was almost like seeing her again for the first time and Bea was overawed by her beauty.

“Hey beautiful,” she murmured, her eyes sinking closed. Allie laughed again. And then sobbed.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she said. Bea concentrated hard and managed to lift her arm and rest it over Allie’s body.

“Never.” She wished she could say more but something not unlike a heavy blanket was draping itself over her mind.

* * * * * * * *

Returning from church that Easter morning, Allie watched Bea’s face transform as she looked about her at the signs of spring. Nature often had this dramatic effect on Bea’s mood and Allie was happy to see her transported so joyfully. It wasn’t always painless to live with someone so changeable, but the highs more than made up for the lows.

Bea had not made an easy patient during her convalescence. _Patient._ Patience, Allie thought with an internal laugh, was not a trait that Bea displayed in abundance. Confined first to her bed and then to light duties had made for an irritable Bea and an exasperated Allie. Tempers had ignited more than once but were soon extinguished as each remembered how close they had come to losing the other.

Owing to the state of the roads following the St Patrick’s Day flood, Broadlea school was closed for several days whilst the water retreated. Truly, they had been fortunate. Flooding in other areas had been much worse. Pittsburgh had been particularly badly hit, with much destruction and loss of life. Allie was grateful to Hubert Pitts for his decision to close the school, as it meant she was able to stay with Bea during those first days when the doctor had forbidden her from so much as getting out of bed, although for the first day or two after Bea was removed from Liz’s and brought home she would have been incapable of standing in any case.

“How’s your head feeling?” Allie asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. She cupped Bea’s face with her hand, her body awash with relief as it was every time she looked at her since she had first opened her eyes after the accident.

“It’s not so bad,” Bea replied with a weary smile. “But the rest of me aches like I wrestled a bear.” Allie grimaced as a sympathetic pain cycled through her. Bea’s whole body had taken a battering and she was covered with purpling bruises.

“I’ll put some more arnica on you at bedtime.”

“Why not now?” Bea asked, with a tiny glimmer in her eye. For her benefit, Allie knew. 

“Not yet. You’ve got to allow me some time to enjoy the anticipation,” she responded with a smirk.

“God … all this time I’m going to spend in bed, and I’m not even in a fit state to make the most of it,” Bea said with a mock pout. Allie laughed.

“Well, there are certain things that might be allowable,” she said with a grin. Bending over she placed a tender but brief kiss on her lips. When she drew back, Bea was smiling.

“More please,” she husked, closing her eyes.

“So demanding,” Allie huffed, delighted. She kissed her again. This time when she drew back Bea was clearly asleep.

* * * * * * * *

“Ahh! Go easy …” Bea protested.

“Sorry …” Allie drew back her hand with a contrite look. Bea fumed internally. Allie was supposed to call her a big baby or tell her to grit her teeth or some such. All this pussyfooting around was rewriting their dynamic in an unwelcome direction. She sighed and grabbed Allie’s wrist, drawing it back to her head, where she had been attempting to tease the twigs out of Bea’s curls and wash away the dirt that clung to her hair and scalp alike.

“Do it,” she commanded brusquely, irritated that Allie seemed intent on misunderstanding her. Allie dipped the washcloth back into the basin of warm water and squeezed it out before applying it gently to her head. Bea relaxed under her touch.

“Perhaps we should just leave it until you can get into the tub,” Allie commented. “I don’t feel like I’m making much progress …” Bea looked into the basin. A thick layer of silt lay over the white enamel base.

“I think it’s working,” Bea replied, gesturing at the filthy water. “Besides …” Bea couldn’t articulate the way she felt about Allie caring for her like this. Weak, pathetic, guilty. But also safe and loved, and focussed on in a most pleasurable way, like Merry stretched out under a beam of sunlight. She caught Allie’s eyes and held her gaze until she saw her face soften. “Thanks, Allie-cat.”

* * * * * * * *

“You’ve got to be more responsible,” Allie told her hotly. This conversation was not proceeding as peacefully as she had hoped.

“What do you mean? I’m reliable, aren’t I?” Bea countered, frowning, clearly put out.

“Yes, you’re _reliable_ ,” Allie answered. “But I said _responsible_ . I can _rely_ on you to do all sorts of things. I can also rely on you to do the most irresponsible thing imaginable when the mood takes you.” Bea was glaring at her. Allie could see that she didn’t follow, but she had to make her understand, had to find a way to help her regulate herself so that nothing like this could happen again. “Like on Wednesday, when you decided to go out in the worst weather …”

“Not this again,” Bea protested, throwing her head back against the headboard, wincing. “I’ve said I’m sorry …”

“This isn’t about apologies, Bea,” Allie interrupted. “I know you’re sorry.” Allie composed herself to speak calmly, leant against the wardrobe for support. “When you feel angry or frustrated your first thought is to relieve that feeling through action. It’s what you've learnt to do … but what I want to suggest is that when you feel like that you take a minute to think about Debbie and me.”

“I’m always thinking about you,” Bea retorted. Allie shook her head sadly, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.

“Not in that moment you’re not. Otherwise you wouldn’t put yourself in danger like that … What are you doing?” Bea was swinging her legs out of bed, putting her feet to the floor. “No. Stop it. Look, you’re doing it right now. You’re not allowed up yet.” Bea froze. Allie watched her shoulders sag. When Bea raised her face and looked at her, Allie could see she was trying not to cry. Her lips were twisted and her eyes brimmed with tears. Allie felt a pang of anguish. She hadn’t set out to make her cry, but maybe it was the only way to get through to her.

“It’s just … you’re right,” Bea said in a strangled voice. “What I did was stupid and reckless and could have got us both killed. I love you so much and I’m so grateful we’re both still here, but … I’m no good at putting it into words. I just want to hold you … If I could lay my heart against yours; I know you would feel it. My heart would speak directly to your heart.” Bea looked at her beseechingly, cheeks flushing. “And my stupid mouth wouldn’t get in the way,” she added, turning her gaze to the floor.

Moved, Allie’s eyes pricked at her words and her heart picked up as she pushed herself away from the wardrobe and stepped up to Bea’s bedside. “Get back into bed,” she told her, holding the covers up for her. Bea complied, wiping the tears from her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Move over, then …” Allie stepped out of her shoes and slid in beside her, pulling Bea against her so that their chests met. She waited until she felt the tension leave Bea's spine. “For someone who doesn’t know how to express herself, that was pretty good,” she said, her mouth against Bea’s ear.

“Shh,” Bea said. “Our hearts are talking …” Allie laughed for a second, then quietened as she felt their hearts beating in unison, the rhythms matching and then quickening together.

“Where’s that stupid mouth of yours?” Allie murmured, and was startled by the alacrity with which Bea pressed their lips together, taking her breath away. And she knew that this too was a message from the heart. And she felt it everywhere. And her heart answered in kind, thumping as though it would break through her ribs and join the corresponding organ in Bea’s chest.

Some minutes later Allie detached her mouth reluctantly. “Okay," she croaked, dizzy and parched. "So your heart is more eloquent than you are but, just to be clear, if you ever pull a foolhardy stunt like that again … I’ll kill you myself.” Bea’s warm irises gleamed.

“Noted.”

* * * * * * * *

Bea quickly leant the broom against the wall and sat herself down on a kitchen chair, willing her pulse to slow.

“Hi Mama,” Debbie called, running over, dropping her coat on a chair and depositing her books on the table. Bea grunted as Debbie threw herself onto Bea’s lap and wrapped her arms around her neck

“Hi baby. Good day?” Bea asked, looking into her face. Debbie started in on a long-winded description of a lesson about migrating birds. Bea tried to concentrate, but by this time Allie had arrived and was looking suspiciously at Bea and the broom and the floor. Bea looked up and smiled at her. Allie scowled, peeled off her glove and held her palm to Bea’s forehead. Debbie stopped talking and looked from one face to another in puzzlement.

“You feel kind of warm. Have you been resting?” Allie asked. Bea could hear a tone to her voice that only rarely made an appearance. Bea nodded.

“Mostly on the couch. Pretty boring. How was your day …?”

“Why’s the broom out?” Allie asked sharply, making no move to remove her coat or shoes or even put her bag down.

“I spilled some sugar, so I just …”

“You should have left it for me to clear up.”

“Oh well, I …” Bea began only to be interrupted again.

“And the coffee grounds that I dropped this morning seem to have disappeared.” Allie fixed her with a gimlet eye. “In fact, the whole floor looks surprisingly clean.” Bea could feel her face heat up. She dropped her gaze from Allie’s face. Debbie chose that moment to slide off her lap and run upstairs. Bea really couldn’t fault her instinct for self-preservation.

“Can’t I leave you on your own for one day?” Allie complained.

“It was just light sweeping, which the doctor …” Bea attempted to explain.

“When I left this morning it was on the understanding that when I came home I’d find you exactly where I left you.” Allie’s voice was nearing a higher register, but Bea thought that she was taking it too far, expecting her to do nothing all day, here on her own.

“Allie. I’m fine. Much better, really. You can stop fussing now.”

“ _Fussing?_ Is that what I’m doing? You almost _died_ . You were unconscious for hours. So forgive me if I’m a little _fussy_ about you ruining your health …” Allie’s eyes had somehow become a heated blue, magnified by the unshed tears that stood on her lower lids. Bea had never seen her like this before, so angry but undeniably filled with loving concern. Bea got a familiar feeling. She didn’t know the word for it but had experienced it several times since the accident. Allie was upset and it was her fault. It made her want to rip her own heart out and thrust it into Allie’s chest. Instead she stood up and took Allie in her arms.

“I’m sorry. So sorry. I’ll be more careful,” she whispered urgently into her hair. After a moment she felt the resistance leave Allie’s body as their bodies melded together.

“Just a few more days, sweetheart. And then you can get back to normal,” Allie conceded.

“What can I do? To make it up to you?” Bea asked her with a thumping heart. Allie laughed.

“You can lie down on the couch with a blanket,” she replied. Bea couldn’t help but be a little disappointed with that answer. “But first of all I’ll help you change into your pyjamas.” Allie gave her a wicked little smile and Bea couldn’t help the grin that spread over her face. Allie had bought her a pair of white pyjamas with red stripes and she had noticed that they seemed to have a peculiar effect on her.

“What is it about those pyjamas?” Bea asked her curiously. Allie looked shy for a moment, fiddling with the collar of Bea’s blouse. Apparently making a decision, she raised her eyes to Bea’s.

“I think it’s all those buttons down the front of the jacket. Or maybe the drawstring on the pants,” she replied in a whisper. “All that promise of … _undoing_.” Bea’s body felt those words as powerfully as if they were an actual stroke of Allie’s hand. She trembled against her and when Allie pressed her lips against her throat she gave a genuine whimper.

“Just you wait until I’m well again,” she husked.

* * * * * * * *

Bridget came from money. You only had to look at her home to know it. Brick-built, colonial style, with a wraparound porch and stunningly landscaped grounds, its beauty impressed Bea more each time she saw it. Although it was a large family home, only Bridget, her mother and Dorothy, their caustic Scottish housekeeper, lived there now. Its emptiness was one of the reasons Bridget liked to invite her friends over. It was evident that the hubbub of conversation and laughter, the chink of china and glassware, and the shrieking of the children enjoying the space to run around pleased her and her mother, reminding them of days when their family had been more numerous and closely knit.

It was the perfect venue for an Easter egg hunt because, regardless of the weather, plenty of hiding places were available. Luckily, it was a mild spring day today and the children were outside rampaging through the borders and across the lawns in a way that made Bea fear for the more tender plants. Bridget, however, was phlegmatic about any damage, claiming that most everything would grow back. Will was out there with them, supposedly supervising, although it appeared that he was only whipping them up into a frenzy of excitement.

Bea hovered near an elegant side table, feeling a little out of place. On the nearby chaise Liz was chatting amiably with Bridget's mother. A couple of Bridget's cousins were laughing by the door to the hallway, while Maxine, Boomer, Charles and Hank stood in a convivial group watching the children through the French windows. Not for the first time she wished that she found situations like this less daunting. 

Bea's attention was reclaimed by the feeling of Allie's arm against hers as she presented her with a saucer shaped glass of sparkling liquid. She took it automatically. 

"This isn't what I think it is, is it?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. Allie nodded. 

"I think it might be," she replied, taking a sip from her own glass. Bea shook her head in disbelief. Never in her life could she have imagined that she would ever taste _actual_ champagne. From France. She took a sip. The bubbles tickled the roof of her mouth and she let out a gasp and a laugh. Allie’s eyes appeared to fizz as they fixed on Bea’s mouth. Bea watched her watching, saw her tongue dart across her lips. Light-headed, Bea reached her hand out toward Allie’s hip.

“Bea! Come and see what I’m working on,” Bridget said, sweeping in and taking her arm. “I’m trying a new technique.” Bea looked at Allie over her shoulder as Bridget led her away. Allie smiled and lowered her lashes, twisting the stem of her glass between her fingers. Bea suppressed a groan of frustration.

* * * * * * * *

Allie helped herself to a second glass of champagne and strolled from the parlour into the kitchen, looking for something to help soak up the alcohol.

“Why are you hiding out in here?” she asked in surprise, finding Franky with her sleeves rolled up spooning something onto celery sticks.

“Dot here needed a hand. Right, Dot?” Franky replied, not taking her eyes off the platter.

“It’s Dorothy,” the housekeeper corrected. “And no. I was managing perfectly well without Miss Doyle’s help,” she added, shooting Allie a pained look.

“I told you, Dotty. Call me Franky.”

“I certainly will not,” Dorothy replied, hastily collecting a plate of pinwheel sandwiches and heading for the door. Allie grabbed a sandwich as she passed.

“So what’s really going on, _Miss Doyle_?” Allie asked her, giving her a sideways look. “Dorothy doesn’t want you in here, and you look decidedly green around the gills.”

“Nothin’. Just helping out.” Allie waited. There was more to this but she didn’t know Franky well enough to push for an answer. But the silence took its toll. “It’s just … I fit better back here than out there.”

“Feeling inadequate? I guess you’re more sensitive than you appear …” Allie joked.

“It’s not that,” Frank interrupted impatiently. “I can hold my own …”

“Then what?”

“I didn’t realise …” she trailed off.

“Realise what?” Allie asked. Really, Franky was almost as bad as Bea.

“Nothing,” she muttered, suddenly throwing the spoon across the room. She glared at Allie, eyes flashing, before swinging out of the swing doors and away.

Allie took a bite of her sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. _Touchy_.

Exiting back into the main part of the house, she spotted Bridget coming towards her.

“Bridget?”

“Bea’s just using the bathroom,” Bridget said, gesturing to the powder room down the hall. Allie nodded.

“Have you seen Franky?” she asked.

“Not recently … why?”

“It's just … she seemed kind of put out just now. Have you seen much of her since Christmas?”

“No,” Bridget replied, colouring up. “But we have exchanged a few letters.” Allie nodded.

“You should talk to her. I think the scale of this place took her by surprise. It may have put a dent in her … _ambitions_ , shall we say.” Allie attempted a knowing look. Bridget’s flush deepened.

“I don’t know what you mean …,” she said faintly. Allie sighed.

“She thinks she’s not good enough for you,” she blurted out. Sometimes plain speaking was the only option left.

“Oh. She said that?”

“Not exactly, but I'm pretty sure that's what she was thinking.” Allie watched Bridget’s facial expressions cycle through doubt, acknowledgment and, finally, gratification, before saying: “Talk to her?” Bridget nodded briefly and headed off with a determined step. Allie smiled to herself before turning towards the powder room.

Bea was just opening the bathroom door as Allie stepped up to it. She stuck her head out into the hall, looked both ways and then tugged Allie into the room and closed the door behind her. Looking inordinately pleased with herself for getting a moment alone with her, Bea drew her into her arms and kissed her as though they had been apart for months rather than minutes. Feeling weak suddenly, Allie allowed herself to sag into Bea's embrace, breathing in her scent and tasting the champagne on her tongue. Edging them over to the door, she flicked the bolt across before untucking the back of Bea's blouse and sliding her hands over her warm flesh. Hearing Bea gasp, she smiled to herself, bringing her hands round to hold first her waist and then her breasts. Bea sprang away from her, blushing fiercely. 

"We can't. Not here," she hissed, retucking herself. Allie smiled placidly. 

"Then why did you lure me in here?" she asked. 

"I didn't _lure_ you," Bea replied defensively, moving over to the basin and checking her flushed face in the mirror. "I have something I want to give you …," she said, meeting Allie's eyes in the glass. 

"That's what I thought," Allie said, leaning herself against Bea's back, pressing her hips against her. "But we'll have to be quick." She examined their joint reflection in the mirror. After taking a moment to enjoy Bea's shocked expression she gave her a mischievous grin and took pity on her. She wrapped her arms around her and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Relax sweetheart. I'm just teasing." Bea's shoulders dropped and she gave Allie a look that said _very funny._ Suddenly, her face grew melancholy. Allie turned her around and looked into her eyes. "What's the matter?" Bea lifted her hand and brushed her fingers against the scar on Allie's face, just at the edge of her eye.

"Every time I see this I'm reminded of what I did to you. I can hardly bear it …," Bea murmured. Her eyes were full of some pain that Allie couldn't name but hated to see. 

"You're looking at it all wrong," she told her gently, catching her eye. "This isn't something you did to me. It's something I won. A badge or a medal or something. It’s a privilege to wear it. Every time I see it, I'm reminded of how much I love you and what I would do to keep you safe. That's what you should see too." Bea gave a watery smile. 

"You're too good to me …"

"No," Allie told her, stung. "I'm not. And the sooner you realise that the better. You're worth everything I can give you and more." Bea shook her head, eyes on the floor. Allie laced her fingers through her curls and gradually lifted her face until their eyes met. "And if I have to spend the rest of my life showing you, then I will." When Bea kissed her, Allie thought that maybe she had never felt anything like it before. It was gentle and exploratory but some emotion of Bea's was so near the surface that Allie felt it bubble through her. When their lips parted and Allie finally opened her eyes, Bea was looking at her, concerned. 

"Are you alright?" she asked, and wiped away the tears that had leaked unknowingly from her eyes. 

"Yes," she gasped and cleared her throat self-consciously. "Must be the champagne," she lied smoothly. But Bea wasn't fooled.

"Whatever you say Allie-cat." Bea rested her cheek against Allie's. "I feel it too. Sometimes it's so strong." And Allie noticed that she was trembling slightly. She tightened her arms around her until she settled. "I'm sorry I was such a horrible patient while I was laid up. You didn't deserve any of that."

"Yeah, well. It wasn't all horrible. And I liked caring for you. It made me feel … strong, I guess. Like I could be the one to make everything alright." Allie's heart was pounding hard, admitting this. Bea was the one who liked to be strong for her, and it had surprised Allie to find satisfaction in their temporary role reversal. Bea drew back to look at her. 

"You are. You are that person." Allie felt the smile spread unstoppably across her face.

"It wasn't just me. It was Liz and Debbie too. Even Merry played his part."

"Yeah. He was good, keeping me company." Allie pictured him on Bea's chest, his paws on her shoulder, purring while she slept and recovered her strength. "I want to give you something …," Bea continued, digging into her jacket pocket. 

"Maybe we should do this at home … rather than in Bridget's bathroom," Allie suggested, looking around at the tiled walls. But Bea shook her head firmly. 

"Now or never," she replied. Her hands trembled as she held out a small package. Allie estimated it to be the size of a piece of jewellery. She looked at it doubtfully. "This is for you. Don't worry. Open it and all will become clear," Bea said. Allie took it from her and peeled away the paper to reveal a slender box. Lifting the lid she found it contained a delicate lozenge shaped wristwatch, the silver surround chased with a scrolling floral pattern. It's face was the deep blue of a summer dusk and the silver Roman numerals and dart shaped hour and minute hands flashed as they caught the light. The bracelet was constructed from a series of curved silver links that reminded Allie of fish scales. She looked up into Bea's worried eyes.

"It's beautiful," she said. "Truly. Only you could have chosen something so perfect." The relief on Bea's face made Allie smile. "What's the occasion?" she asked. 

"Well. Just that yours got ruined when you fished me out of the river." Bea's eyes were everywhere except on Allie's. Allie nodded. And waited. Bea swallowed nervously. "And … it kind of signifies …" Allie took her hand. 

"Signifies what, sweetheart?"

"What I want," she said with apparent difficulty. "With you." When Allie continued to look at her questioningly, Bea lifted the watch out of the box and flipped it over so that Allie could see the inscription on the back of the case. 

" _1935 - forever"_

"Time," Bea finally breathed. "All of it. With you." She huffed out a laugh. "It's greedy, I know. And presumptuous."

"No," Allie said. "It's exactly right." She put the watch down on the edge of the basin so that she could take both of Bea's hands in hers. "Don't you think I want the same?" Eventually Bea was able to look at her. Tears trembled and fell. Her lips twitched into a tentative smile. 

"Yeah?" Bea asked hopefully. Allie shook her head in mock sorrow.

"Have you not been paying attention since the first moment I laid eyes on you?" she asked playfully. Bea smiled ruefully. 

"I thought you might have changed your mind. Because of everything I put you through. I planned to give you the watch for your birthday, but then … this morning, it felt … _timely_ , to do it today. As though one life had ended and another had begun." Allie nodded encouragingly, having seen how the dawn service and the promise of the new season had affected Bea. "It seemed appropriate …" She faded out, looking unsure. 

"A timepiece to mark the beginning of a new phase of our lives," Allie said, to show that she understood. 

"Yes," Bea said in relief. "Hopefully, one unmarked by trouble or danger." Allie would have kissed her then, but Bea had more to say. “I know I did something stupid. I feel like we got really lucky. So this is it Allie.” She picked up the watch with trembling fingers. Allie could see her throat working as she mastered herself. “My commitment to you. To be here for you. Always.” There was a question in her eyes and she appeared to be holding her breath. Allie smiled and held out her arm so that Bea could fasten the watch around her wrist.

“You know, you didn’t need a watch or anything,” Allie said, thinking of the ring she would one day place on Bea’s finger. “You could just have said the words.”

“Yeah, well,” Bea said, struggling a little to speak and fasten the clasp at the same time, holding her head at an unnatural angle to keep her tears from dripping onto Allie’s hand. “We both know how wrong my stupid mouth can get it …” Allie looked at that stupid mouth, and then cupped Bea’s face in her hands.

“Have you finished? Can I kiss you now?” she asked impatiently. Bea smiled shyly and nodded, although Allie wasn’t sure she could have resisted in any case. And when their mouths met everything else faded away. There were no troubles, past or future; there was just the thrill of sensation that chased through her body, magnified by the knowledge that it was Bea holding her close, Bea running her hands restlessly over her body. When their mouths separated for a moment, Allie heard Bea take a shuddering breath. That particular sound was one that Bea only made when she was quite far gone, and hearing it made Allie's blood surge so that she was briefly deafened by a ringing in her ears. Perhaps they did have time after all. And they definitely had some catching up to do. 

* * * * * * * *

Bea's mind was blanketed in sensation, her nerve endings basted with some solution that conducted the electricity of Allie's touch more effectively than usual. The sweetness of her mouth seemed amplified by the day, by her own feelings, and Allie's response to them. She thrust her fingers into Allie's hair and deepened the kiss. She could never get enough of this. Allie's hands were on her back, on her hips, pulling her closer ...

_Knock, knock!_

Bea sprang apart from Allie, looking around wildly. She was appalled at how close she had come to doing something reckless.

“Alright lovebirds, that’s enough. I’m pretty sure I know what you’re doing in there, but finish up will you? The kids are ready to count up their eggs.”

“Franky,” Allie whispered to her with a calm smile. “Coming …” she called at the door. Bea heard a dirty chuckle followed by Bridget murmuring something and then the sound of retreating footsteps. “Let’s get out of here. We can finish this later,” Allie promised with gleaming eyes, apparently untroubled by the close call. Bea knew she must be red faced and probably dishevelled. How could she face everyone now? Somehow Allie seemed to know what she was thinking. “Sweetheart, they’re our friends …” Bea swallowed, nodded, and took her hand. Unlocking the door, she stepped bravely out.

**Author's Note:**

> We have had a very wet year here in the UK and so when I read about the terrible flooding in the eastern USA in early 1936 it seemed a no-brainer to write something about it. I hope you liked it and that you are all managing to stay healthy and positive during these strange days. Hitch ❤


End file.
